Trail Rides | Horse Stables | Horseback riding tours in beautiful Hood River. Horseback winery tours of the beautiful fruit blossoms to a wine tasting and ride horses back from the wine bar. 
Call for details, wineries and times. (949) 933-0551  

General Communication Skills: Western – English – Dressage – Combined

Incorporate Principals Based on Natural and Classical Horsemanship into your current training program-

Open House and Horsemanship clinics on  Saturday afternoons  RSVP at the Horse Riders Meetup  Everyone is Welcome!

Lucky To See Secretariat In Saratoga | A Legendary Horse Story

By: Bill Heller

We had no idea that the Hopeful Stakes at Saratoga was the premier race for two-years-olds in the country, or that it’s name was derived from owners hoping their two-year-olds would challenge in the Triple Crown Classics the following spring.
We were just four friends with nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon on the weekend before our classes started at Albany State University in 1972.

One of us, Mike, had a car. And somebody said, “Let’s go to Saratoga.”

Coming Attractions!

We excitedly welcome the outstanding work of Charles Wilhelm.

Well known and highly respected horse trainer Charles Wilhelm will be contributing his articles to the readers of Horse 2 Heart.com

Charles is a seasoned Training Master for all levels of horsemanship. If he isn’t already one of your favorites, he will quickly become one.

While I jokingly like to blame my horse for the dumb things I do in training, Charles keeps me honest. He shows us how it is really not the horses fault in so many common situations we encounter.

By: Audrey Pavia

The first time I ever touched her was on a damp winter night. She had just been used for her fourth jumping lesson that day. The teenaged rider dismounted, handing me the reins as our trainer requested.

The mare seemed relieved to stand quietly and rest. I reached to touch her steaming, spotted coat, I could feel the taughtness of her neck muscles, and could see the anxiety in her eyes. A rose-colored, spotted horse she was aptly named Rosie. She had a hard life as part of the boarding stable for these last seven years, following too long a stay at a feed lot where horses were generally auctioned. She had been spared the slaughterhouse. Her new life as a lesson horse was difficult for her.

By: George Stalzer

As a young boy I dreaded one Saturday chore most of all. With two days off from school I should have been happy, but after looking under the stoop I knew it was going to be another one of those terrible Saturday mornings. I sat down to wait and listen for the sound of Tony and his fruit and vegetable wagon coming up the hill.
“Why don’t he come on school days?” I thought. And then I heard him “Fresh Fruit! – Fresh Vegetable!” and the sound of hoofs clip clopping along. Tony led Caroline around the corner, and to the bottom of our dead end street, guiding her and the wagon in a half circle to stop right in front of our house. Tony fed her an apple, a reward, I suppose, for the steep climb. The neighborhood ladies did their shopping while Caroline stood quietly, her ears sticking through holes in a straw hat sitting atop her head, and her tail whipping side to side chasing the flies away. Caroline was something special to the little kids staring at this huge animal right in front of their door.

By: Cathy Elliott

“Quit doing that! What’s wrong with you, horse?”

I couldn’t see the speaker but the frustration in his voice made me cringe. Would he harm the horse? Maybe not if someone was watching. Urging my mare into a brisk trot, we rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. About twenty feet away were two sailors dressed in white uniforms, one astride a buckskin and the other standing, facing a big, bay gelding.

By: Sarah Habicht

When I first heard that I was required to fulfill 160 hours of community service in order to graduate, all I could think about was how much of a pain in the neck it was going to be. After-school activities would be replaced by hanging out with old people or running around chasing a bunch of rambunctious toddlers. Little did I know that my community service experience would be the most inspirational and influential experience in my life.

By: Jackie Hahn Winans

The Sky’s The Limit, so keep reaching for the stars!

Many years ago, after losing my other horse, a friend of my husband asked If I wanted her daughter’s horse in which she had lost interest in. I thought about it long and hard wondering if I could handle the pain of losing another animal down the road, something made me say yes. It had been many years since the lose of my dear Peanuts, but I needed to take a chance and GO FOR IT. The new member of our family was only 1 1/2 years old, I had never raised a baby before, But I went in head first! His name is M.C. Chadwick covered in mud his coat dull from a long wet winter. My husband & I picked him up Dec 88′ and walked him down to our new home at Damoor Farms.

By: Diana Janning

Every horse person will someday run across their horse soul-mate . . . that one special horse that will forever be engraved in their soul. Mine was a big, red, American Saddlebred gelding, named Big Country. He was quickly dubbed with the barn name “Red”. Not ultimately unique, but it just seemed to fit. He had no flashy markings and he was nothing spectacular to look at in the stall, but he was a gentle giant who carried himself proudly. He was the horse I just had to have. The one I begged my mother to buy. To this day, I can remember several prettier horses in the barn, but for whatever reason, I knew that Red and I were meant to be. Apparently, my mother agreed, and we soon became a successful team in the show ring, earning many blue ribbons.

By: Christina Borsick(2)

Champagne wheeled around and kicked her newborn foal in the head. The baby flew across the stall. My husband, Jeff and I raced into action. He grabbed the mare by her halter, and I snatched up the baby, bringing her out into safety. We knew we were going to have trouble with the mare, but neither of us expected such a violent rejection.

Several months prior to the birth, Champagne’s milk began leaking, then pouring out in streams. We had contacted the vet, who told us that the colostrum was most likely gone, and that they would obtain some for when the foal was born. We were to call the moment she gave birth, and they would come out to see what must be done.

By: Christina Borsick(1)

I went into work that morning and began my chores. The trainers weren’t there yet, as they usually didn’t come in until around 8:00. I drug the hose down the barn aisle, watering each animal on the way by, until I got to the second to last stall. It was dark inside, like all the others, but since the horse inside was black, I couldn’t see him. I strained for a closer look to make sure he was okay. Bam! The wall rocked with the impact. The two-year old gelding inside had struck the wall very near my face with his front feet. My heart jumped and I stepped back.

By: Craig Harzmann

It’s hard to tell who the lucky one really is.

After all, there was no reason to think that I could actually get a horse, at least not at that point. For most of my life, in fact, horses weren’t a big deal to me. Unlike a lot of children, I did not grow up a horse fanatic. I never read the books of famous authors like Walter Farley or Marguerite Henry, wishing I were the one in the middle of the action. I never drew horse pictures, never begged my parents for riding lessons, never spent my days dreaming of the moment I’d finally have one to call my very own.

By: Jessica Young

BANG! The gavel came down. 53cents a pound. And out the door went the beautiful black and white horse. 53cents a pound? How could I not have raised my hand? How could I let the meat man buy her for a lousy $550?!

I left the auction house with a sick feeling in my stomach. She had looked right at me while she was in the ring. Her eyes held a secret I didn’t want to hear. But it was too late. The beautiful paint mare was on her way to the holding pen, waiting for the “meat man” to pick her up.

By: Holly Miller

As I walked into the stables, my adrenaline rose. I was so excited! Today was the day my trainer was taking me to the Back Bay for a trail ride. The Back Bay was a beautiful bay that came in from the Pacific Ocean. It was a nice getaway from the traffic and crowds. It looped in a circle and people could bike ride, run, walk, horseback ride, and walk their dogs. The best part of today’s ride was that I was going to ride the small, black pony named Cheyenne. Cheyenne was the small, black pony that everyone loved. Everyone thought she was so sweet and adorable.

By: Christina Borsick(4)

“Jeff! Chris! Get up!”

I heard my father’s voice through the door, and rolled to sit up.
“What is it?” I rubbed my eyes, and grabbed for a pair of jeans, throwing them and my shoes on. My husband was right behind me and opened the door.

“Your colt was born in the night sometime, but I can’t find it,” my dad said.

“I found the placenta, and the mare is out there by the fence.”

We grabbed our coats and hot cups of coffee, and the three of us went out the door.